Zane's Big Break

My little boy fell at home, just off of a step stool designed to help kids get onto the potty which is maybe 6" tall and has grippy feet. I was in our bathroom when he apparently decided to go potty by himself, and tho I am not certain how he did it, he fell. I got to him after hearing the scream and Macy coming to get me to say he was hurt. He was laying on the floor, crying inconsolably but there was nothing apparent that hurt. I lifted him up, tried to get him to stand and that elicited more screams, so I picked him up and took him to his room. I laid him on his bed, finished undressing him, which meant removing his shirt as he had taken off everything else in the bathroom. I got a clean diaper and put on him, feeling an odd 'click' in his right leg when I did so. Given the intensity of the crying that followed, I figured he had possibly dislocated his hip, so I only put the diaper on, handed him his "Fluppy Dog" and covered him with a blanket. I flexed his ankles, and that was fine, as were shoulders (remember there is NO mark on him to indicate what the issue was) and he was ok as long as I did not touch his right leg above the knee. I called Daddy, who had JUST left about 5 minutes before Zane fell, and said "You need to get back home. Zane is hurt and I think its bad, we need to take him to the ER." Daddy was northbound on I-75 so no real way to make a U-turn, but assured me he would be back as soon as he could get here. Since the crying had calmed down some, I thought it best to leave him there, safe and warm and seemingly happier while I investigated what happened. I walked into the bathroom to see the stool was wet, likely he tried to pee in the big potty and missed, and all around the toilet was wet and his clothes were in a pile where he removed each item. I cleaned up the wet stuff, picked up his clothes and went back to his room. As soon as I walked in, he tried to get up but ended up crying again with sheer agony written all over him. I called Daddy again, he assured me he was less than 10 minutes from home. I had Macy pack herself some quiet toys in her tote bag, explaining we had to take Zane to the hospital and only quiet toys were allowed there. I packed Zane's tote, no toys but with slip-on shoes and some clean, dry clothes. I was pretty sure he had dislocated his hip given the pain when it was moved, the clicking feel and how he was lying when I got to him. Daddy pulled in and we were actually able to get Zane into his carseat, just could not buckle the crotch latch. A risk I was willing to take. Loaded everyone into the momvan and by God we WENT to Shands like a bat out of hell. Thank you God for keeping us safe on that drive. We get there, I did not know the ER had moved so I am banging U-turns, then searching for parking in a seemingly tiny lot. Thankfully we found a spot, got out and I carried Zane into the building. With each step I made on my left foot, the side I was holding him on, he would whimper. Inside we were triaged fairly fast and sent to the Peds waiting area. It felt like a 30 minute wait, but may have been 5. Get into an exam room, go over everything that has happened. They prep him with an IV and did preliminary exams, noting his pain level each time his right leg was touched. I explained my theory of a displaced hip and they agreed it was possible, but they needed X-rays to confirm. Sure, go take X-rays, then lets get the joint put back into place, a quick shot of pain meds and orders to take it easy so we can go home. The Dr walked back in and the look on her face told me it was not a dislocated hip. My little boy had broken his leg. Badly. A spiral fracture. I felt like someone hit me in the gut with a shovel. How in the world did his leg BREAK from a 6" fall?? How was it not something minor?? How did I not know this and suddenly the memory of the 'click' in his leg when I diapered him hit me full force. Oh my God...had I made it worse? The Dr positioned herself in front of me, looking at me and said "this is not a simple injury. It is bad, it will be hard on him and on you. Brace yourself for all I am about to tell you." and I don't think I heard her entirely after that because all I could see in my mind was his little face when I touched his leg or moved him and the level of pain finally registered with me. I paid attention again when she said they were required by State law to report the injury to DCF. DCF?? Why?? He fell off of a stool, no one did this to him. It was an accident. She went on to tell me they were going to be at the hospital shortly and I needed to compose myself to talk with them. She also said they needed more X-rays so I sent Daddy with Zane to keep him settled. The look on Daddy's face when he returned, along with the clear signs he had been crying about as hard as Zane had, told me it was good I did not go with him. I would have punched someone. They took a total of about 25 X-rays, head to toe, and moving him this and that way - with NO pain meds for him. He was in agony. The Dr came back in, explained to us that he would have to be put under, using Ketamine, and have the bone reduced and set in something called a SPICA cast. She went over the risks involved in total sedation, but explained there was no alternative given what they had to do to get his leg set correctly. I nodded and signed, hoping for the best. They had us wait for the Peds trauma room to be free, and wheeled us over to wait for the teams to do this. Oh and during all of this, I called my Aunt, had her come pick Macy up and take her to her house first, then home to wait for us so Macy would be in her own room and so forth. Mind you, my Aunt lives about 2 blocks from me so this was not a huge imposition. With Macy safely taken care of, our focus turned to Zane. Then the call came down that the trauma room would not be ours just yet, so back to the exam room we went. DCF showed up, in all her glory. She was not unpleasant but her tone and leading manner were very annoying. The huge ACSO deputy with her kept me from telling her that I did in fact question her heritage by suggesting her parents either never married or were closely related. She interviewed me for almost 30 minutes. Then she asked me to go get Lon and send him to the little room, where he was asked less than 5 questions. We're waiting more now. Ortho Drs have stopped by, finally gave Zane some morphine and got his leg into a splint so he would stop trying to use it and create more pain. This was about 7:30. We got there at 2:30. Five hours of prodding and moving with nothing for pain and I am being interviewed for possible abuse? We got called back to Peds Trauma, where I knelt and prayed for a good 10 minutes solid. I just wanted him to be out of pain and only they could do that. Half of the team showed up, we were all set save for Ortho and we got the call. There had been an accident. A bad one. A guy had a badly mangled leg, with his motorcycle embedded into much of it. All Ortho hands on deck for this one. We got bumped, again. This time we went to something called Minor Care. It's now after 9 and he has had one dose of 1ml of morphine in all this time. Zane was exhausted. Every time he would fall asleep, he would relax and his leg would move, hurt, startle him and he would tense all limbs, creating more pain....it was a vicious cycle. Lon decided to go home to be with Macy. My Mom, who has worked at Shands for 20+ years was with Zane and I and he figured she could do me more good than he could. He went home but asked me to call and update him with what happened. It was about 11:45 when we were called back to Peds trauma, with the promise that it would happen this time. I did my best to comfort Zane as they prepped the room and equipment around him. When everyone finally showed, anesthesia walked in and told me what to expect, said "Lets do this" and in under 2 minutes my son was out. He looked like he had died. Eyes open but fixed, just one minute moving some and whimpering and BAM - out. That freaked me the hell out. Mom took me out of the room and I asked to go outside. I was losing it and I wanted no one around to see that happen. I called Lon once I regained my composure, told him they were finally getting him set and in the cast. He asked me what time it was - almost 2am. Twelve hours ago, we were flying to the ER and they were only just now getting him set. Mom and I went back inside as it was quite chilly that night. I asked her to direct me to a soda machine, I needed caffeine badly. We got drinks and went back to a waiting room, the same one I had sat in with DCF and the Deputy but this time was just us. She saw an intern she knew and asked him to look in on the procedure to see how it was going. He came back with, "It should not be long, but definitely stay here" with a nod to me and a slight shake of his head. A few more people came by that Mom knew, each of them expressing their thoughts and prayers for Zane. I could not tell you their names, aside from Marcus who was the one to check on things. Finally we were called into the room we had been in and out of several times waiting our turn. I knew what they explained to me, but it did not prepare me for seeing him. He is not a big boy, only weighed 28lbs (roughly, he would not let go of his Fluppy Dog to be weighed and to this very day some 10 days later he still has not) but he looked SO tiny and helpless. Then I realized he was still out, and asked why we were called in if he was not awake. I know the nurse did not intend to scare me, but she did. She said "We can't get him to come around and wanted to see if he will wake up for you". I of course heard nothing after "We can't get him to come around" and my heart about fell on the floor. I went to him, stroked his hair, his face, chest all while calling his name. Nothing. I resorted to the old knuckle in the breastbone and just barely a flicker. After about 10 minutes, his eyes opened. Thank you God, his eyes opened. All we were waiting on now was a bed assignment. As luck would have it, part of my Mom's job is bed control so she marched out of the room, got on an internal phone for about 5 minutes then came back to the trauma room. She told the nurse, "We will have a bed in less than 15 minutes" and in about 10, her cell rang and she was told he would be in 4539A. When the transport people came to move him, they didn't even know but were waiting on a page with the room number. Mom told them she knew and lets get him out of here so we went. Turns out we went under Archer Road, thru "the tunnel" and took him into the original building - we had been in the new tower where the ER moved to - but I didn't even realize all this. We got him into his room, the page came as we were in the hallway and sure enough, 4539A it was. Imagine that. The nurses got him settled into the bed, did his vitals and left. The charge nurse came and told us where we could get food and drink, brought extra blankets and left us for the night. Of course it was about 3:45am so it was almost over, but it was nice of them to try and let us adjust. There is more, but that will follow. This has wiped me out to re-live.